


Two for One

by Jemisard



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-19
Updated: 2015-12-19
Packaged: 2018-05-07 15:00:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5460650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jemisard/pseuds/Jemisard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A physical relationship isn't so easy when you're both very broken men with very violent lives. But they're doing their best.</p>
<p>Twice it accidentally ended in blood and tears, once it didn't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Two for One

It was a tight fit to get them both in the bath at the same time, their legs awkwardly tangling and Connor nearly kicking Desmond when he accidentally brushed the ticklish spot behind his knee. There was a lot of water on the floor by the time they got settled, Desmond settling in between Connor's legs and leaning back against his chest, head on his shoulder.

"So worth it," Desmond said, eyes already closing. He tugged one of Connor's arms around his body; Connor let him with mild amusement.

Connor didn't reply, just hummed softly to acknowledged he had heard the words. He wasn't really sure about the appeal of it yet, but Desmond seemed to be happy.

He had been insistent that it would be a great way to relax. Connor enjoyed hot baths, but the idea of sharing them with someone else had never passed his mind until Desmond had mentioned it in that way that meant he was trying to be subtle and get Connor to ask him to join him.

He ran his hand down Desmond's chest, into the water and over his stomach and back up, touching for the sake of touching. They'd worked out early on that Connor coped better when he could control their encounters; in fact, Desmond seemed to positively encourage Connor to dominate him.

His hand stroked a little firmer at the thought and Desmond sighed, relaxing into Connor's body more, a comfortable, heated weight. Resting his own head on the wall, the lip of the bath tucked into the back of his neck and his free arm stretched along the side of the bath he tilted his head enough to watch Desmond's expression as he gently ran his fingers over his skin, tracing scars and marks that he was slowly learning.

He'd have to be blind to miss the way Desmond pushed into the touch with a soft sigh, so he kept it up, drawing higher up his chest and then dipping down past his navel with long, sweeping movements. When Desmond pushed back into him, Connor brought his other hand to his chest to hold Desmond still as his hand dipped down again, deliberately moving to rub Desmond's inner thigh instead.

"You're being a tease," Desmond grumbled, but he didn't bother opening his eyes and instead nuzzled into Connor's shoulder a bit more.

"You always complain about that." And then, inevitably, he enjoyed it far more than he thought he would while Connor was actually taking his time. He pressed a light kiss to the top of Desmond's head.

"Ugh. I hate then you do that." Desmond planted a foot on the edge of the bath to shove back against Connor. "It makes me feel like you're my father or something."

"Don't," Connor warned. Mentioning fathers during moments like these was not really conducive to a good atmosphere. 

His hands stilled and Desmond sighed, tipping his head back and blowing air on the underside of his jaw. "C'mon, don't stop. I'm sorry."

It was almost entirely deliberate that the next push made Desmond arch and Connor's hand slid to cup him, instinctively giving a light squeeze that drew a soft sound of enjoyment from the other man. And when Desmond made that sound, Connor couldn't help but want to get him to make it again, so he shifted his grip slightly and ducked his head to run his tongue around the edge of Desmond's ear.

There was a slight noise, like a squeaking door, and then Desmond screeched and flung himself backward and up and there was a blossom of pain and metal flooding Connor's mouth.

"Fuck! Jesus shit, oh my God, I am so sorry!" Desmond scrambled down and turned off the tap–why was the tap on?–and then grabbed toilet paper, helping Connor staunch the flow of blood from his nose. "I am so sorry, I must've turned on the tap with my foot, it nearly gave me a fucking heart attack, cold water straight onto my feet and rushing up- well, anyway. I'm sorry."

Connor leaned forward, closing his eyes and breathing through his open mouth, while he drooled blood from his split lip. Desmond soothingly rubbed his back and agreed to clean up the mess of water and blood as an apology.

Getting in the bath together never got mentioned again.

*~*~*

It had taken them a long time to get here. Connor's ingrained mistrust of people and Desmond's problematic upbringing had left them both unable to really relax and open up to each other.

Connor found hands threatening on his body, but Desmond had accepted and worked with him to overcome it. Desmond was full of triggers and reactions he didn't understand, but Connor was strong enough and fast enough to avoid the instinctive lashing out when Desmond was sober and wanted to try pushing his limits.

Being on a bed helped them both. They were used to this, being tangled together in a space that was never quite big enough for both of them with Connor's bulk, but always enough to make them press close and find the ways they could fit together.

Like this, it wasn't the most comfortable way to lie, but it worked for pressing them together, Desmond tucked in against his chest, letting him press his hands to the broad expanse of the smaller man's back while they kissed slowly and leisurely.

Desmond was more restless, sliding his leg over Connor's, running his nails lightly over Connor's back and pulling him closer, urging him to push his own knee between Desmond's thighs. It fitted them that much closer together with a small buck of the hips to grind against one another. Desmond gasped into the next kiss, biting Connor's lower lip and sucking it in silent apology after.

Connor's grumble was half hearted. He hadn't liked Desmond's biting at first, but he was growing to enjoy it as he learned the nuances of them. The shock of pleasure that made him snap his teeth shut, or the possessive, playful bite and shake when Connor was frustrating him in a way he found endearing.

This was "I liked it, more," with a hint of asking in the gentleness that came afterward. It was a wordless supplication that Connor had come to find irresistible, one hand coming up to curl at the back of Desmond's neck.

Desmond rolled his body against Connor's, his hands sliding down to his ribs, then hips and gripping firmly as they moved together. Connor didn't quite smother the sound it drew from him, but it caught on their mouths as they pressed back in for another kiss.

Fingertips brushed his side and then there was a shock of of sensation, almost pain, nothing like it and Connor's whole body jerked and a sound unlike anything he was used to making wrenched free.

Desmond, on the other hand, howled as Connor's convulsive movement snapped his knee upward and into his groin.

"Desmond!" The sensation gone, Connor hurried to sit up, hands moving and not touching. _I'm sorry_ , I am so sorry, I did not mean to."

Desmond didn't reply, just groaned a bit and then wheezed and curled up a bit more. Connor grimaced and tried rubbing his back, the way Desmond did to him, but it didn't really seem to help. 

"Would something cold help?"

The slight nod was enough to send him the kitchen, taking a bag of grapes from the fridge and bringing them back. "I thought the frozen vegetables might be _too_ cold."

A hand came out, grabbed the grapes and vanished back into the agonised curl of Desmond's body.

Connor came and sat next to him. The least he could do was sit with him until he felt well enough to do something other than suffer.

*~*~*

Connor was in the shower when he heard the front door slam. He turned off the water and wrapped a towel around his waist, picking up his tomahawk from the sink as he stepped into the main room.

Desmond had thrown his coat onto the couch and kicked off his boots. He looked over at Connor's entrance, his eyes going darker as his pupils widened.

"Bad day," Connor asked softly. He set his weapon on the sideboard, now he was sure there was no danger.

"Shit day. Crap-fucking-tastic day." He peeled off his tee shirt, which was stained dark red from wine. "I had to eject two drunks from the bar at fucking _midday_."

Connor found his gaze dropping to look over Desmond's bare chest and stomach. Traces of wine lingered on his pale skin, glistening in the apartment's lights. 

"Connor? Are you even listening to me?"

"Yes." He came forward; Desmond didn't back up until the last moment, realising that Connor was intent on closing the distance. His back hit the front door and Connor sank to his knees in front of him.

"Connor?"

He didn't bother replying, just leaned in and dragged his tongue over one of those glistening spots. He didn't drink, didn't generally like the taste, but the sweetness of the wine and the salt of Desmond's body was a pleasant burst of flavour.

The way Desmond moaned was good as well, one of his hands pressing to Connor's head and tangling in his wet hair. Connor let the hand guide him up, stretching to drag his tongue over his breastbone and sideways to a nipple.

If Desmond was inclined to question Connor's actions, that inclination was dying as Connor's mouth continued to drag over his skin, to the other nipple where a darker stain lingered, begging to be sucked away.

"Jesus, fuck, Connor!" Desmond's hand tugged in his hair, too sharp, and Connor growled slightly before looking up at Desmond's face, easing the pulling on his hair.

Their gazes met and held for a long moment. 

Desmond loosened his grip and dropped his head back to rest against the door, leaving a long line of bared throat. Connor didn't try to resist, coming to his feet, hands grasping Desmond's legs and heaving him up, pinning him between his own weight and the front door as he licked up that inviting throat.

In return, Desmond's legs wound around his waist, a strong, tight grip that pressed them close against each other, chest to chest, cock to cock. Those broad hands closed on the back of his head, pulling them together in a heated kiss. Desmond's tongue pushed into his mouth and Connor pushed his body against Desmond's in return, hands cupping his thighs to hold his weight.

"Connor!" Desmond broke the kiss as he cried out, gasping a deep breath and twining his arms around Connor's shoulders and neck. His heels dug into the small of Connor's back as he rocked against him.

Connor surged his body forward, ducking to mouth over Desmond's pulse, feeling it race and thrum under his tongue as they ground together. Even the press of their chests sent a frisson of heat through him, urging him to hold Desmond there, move him in the way that felt good.

Felt good for both of them, if the gasping and moaning was anything to judge by. Desmond's bare toes grasped at his skin then pushed and tugged, pulling the towel free to drop on the floor at Connor's feet. The denim of Desmond's jeans was rough against his cock when he thrust against him once more, but the heat was so much more intense with one less layer between them.

"Jeans," he panted into Desmond's throat.

"Can't." The legs around Connor's waist tightened, the rocking more forceful. "Don't you dare fucking stop."

"Get them _open_ ," Connor growled. He wanted them off, but he wasn't willing to relinquish his grip, the heat and want of the moment.

Desmond groaned and shoved a hand between them, pulling at his zip. "Fucking, can't."

Connor heard himself growl with frustration and shifted Desmond's weight to free a hand. He caught Desmond's wrist and tugged at the straps on his hidden blade, until they managed to get it off and then he slid the blade free.

"Fuck," Desmond breathed. "Jesus fuck, you are _not_..."

The kiss cut off the disbelief. Connor's fingers pressed against the bulge in Desmond's jeans, impressively harder than before as he brought the blade down and very carefully split the denim, making sure to keep the tip well away from anything sensitive.

"Fuck. Oh fuck, I can't work out if I should be terrified or turned on-"

Then he could drop the blade to the side and push and it was skin to skin, cock to cock and sliding against one another. It was hot and desperate, thrusting against one another until it was too much and Connor buried his face in Desmond's neck and came between them, his last hard movements enough to send Desmond over the edge, crying out loudly.

Connor's breath was heavy and shaky as he sank down to his knees, keeping Desmond cradled in his lap and pressed to the wall.

"You ruined my fucking jeans."

He huffed laughter into Desmond's shoulder and pressed his brow to his neck. "I will fix them."

Desmond's mouth pressed a kiss to his temple, hand rubbing over the back of his neck. It had taken time to let that sort of touch happen; now it was actually soothing. "You okay, there?"

He nodded and hummed. He wasn't really inclined to move yet and instead pressed a couple of open mouthed kisses to Desmond's collarbone.

"You need another shower. You should help save water and have one with me."

His own soft chuckle was lost to Desmond's shriek of laughter as Connor hauled them back up and carried him off to the bathroom.


End file.
